


Follow You Into the Dark

by webofdreams89



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webofdreams89/pseuds/webofdreams89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s raining again outside and Jo’s waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow You Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as what was supposed to be a pwp fic at a motel and ended up being about feelings and relationships. Sorry (not sorry) about that. I'll probably get around to writing that too at some point, but I like how this turned out actually. It was fun sussing out a relationship between Jo and Bela who never actually interact on the show, but had to have run into each other at some point right? When the fic takes place is ambiguous, sometime after Jo starts hunting. It's implied that the Roadhouse is still around and, you know, they're both still alive. So for the same of argument, lets say it is a slight AU in a world where both ladies (along with Ellen) and alive, the Roadhouse is still serving cold ones to drunken hunters, and things aren't quite as shitty. 
> 
> I wrote this for furyofthetimelords' call for more Supernatural femslash. Which this fandom totally needs. I actually have at least two more Bela/Jo fics planned out, one that will probably be a bit longer.

It’s raining again outside and Jo’s waiting.  She has been for hours, flipping idly through B-movies on the fuzzy old TV, sparing a glance at the door every few minutes or so.  Her phone is fully charged and sometimes she looks at that too, willing it to ring.  Maybe she got the wrong day, maybe something came up and Bela needed to cancel, or isn’t going to show up at all.

Maybe maybe maybe.

She’d tried calling a few hours ago and sent off two texts after that, not wanting to seem too clingy but not wanting to seem uninterested too.  The message she left on Bela’s voice mail was short, a bit flirtatious, mostly promising. 

The night they arranged the meet up, spoken in strained voices after nearly two hours of phone sex, Jo had sent her a picture of the lingerie she bought special with weeks’ worth of tips from broke-off-their-ass hunters.  To which Bela was really receptive, groaning softly into the phone and telling Jo just what she was going to do with that lingerie and how good it would look on the hotel floor once she was done with it.

Jo had been so caught up in it all that she’d sighed and murmured quietly to Bela just how much she missed her.  Bela had gone quiet and Jo started mentally kicking herself because Bela wasn’t the kind of woman you showed that level of vulnerability to.  She just wasn’t, and what they have, it’s still new and sometimes it scares Jo.  She knows who Bela is, knows what she does for a living, and thinks that perhaps she is still naïve enough to think that maybe she is the exception to all of Bela’s rules. 

After several long seconds in which Jo could hear a slight hitch in Bela’s breathing and a soft sound from her throat, Bela said that yeah, she really missed Jo too.

But that was days ago, days Jo spent worrying that maybe she’d overstepped some unspoken rule between them and then berating herself because Jo just was _not_ the type of woman to let someone else dictate so much of her, even unintentionally.  Though maybe that was only when she was with men that had never felt like they fit her very well.  Nothing had until that case in Wyoming with the dead kids when Bela gave her this long intense look, her head cocked questioningly to the side, before she leaned forward and kissed Jo hard.  Jo felt Bela’s long hair brushing against the top of her chest, felt Bela’s slender fingers digging bruises into her hips, and it was just so _right_.  Being with a woman, being with Bela, and it was far scarier than anything she’d come across on the job.  And sure, Jo had heard the rumors about Bela, everyone had, but none of it mattered all that much when Bela’s fingers were digging into the back of her head to force Jo’s tongue deeper.

They started talking to each other all the time after that, arranging little rendezvous as often as they could afford given both their extra-curriculars.  Hardly a day went by that they didn’t call, text, or at least email each other.  Bela had become a real presence in Jo’s life.  She hadn’t quite told her mother about Bela specifically, but she did know that there was someone in Jo’s life that meant a lot to her.  And Jo feared that if Bela did just decide to leave her, it was going to hurt a lot more than she cared to admit.

At some point, Jo must have fallen asleep because the next thing she’s aware of is infomercials playing on the TV and knocking at the door.  She pulls her silk robe tight around her, grabs a gun from the nightstand, and heads to the door. 

The hotel is old, decrepit, and the door doesn’t have a peephole like she’d hoped, so she squares her shoulders and opens it.  Bela is standing there, an odd look on her face.  The streetlights make her look sallow and wrong, but Jo can’t deny the intense rush of relief she feels course through her.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to show,” she says neutrally, shutting and locking the door after Bela steps inside. 

Bela turns to her.  In the dim lighting, Jo can see that she’s dripping water everywhere and looks paler than usual.  Bela moves to shrug her coat off and it looks like it takes real effort, that usual grace she exudes gone.  She stumbles and Jo’s there in a second, helping her over to the small, round table shoved into the corner of the room and sitting her in the rickety chair.

“What’s wrong?” Jo asks, kneeling in front of her.  Jo’s freezing in her thin robe and can feel her nipples draw tight from it when she touches the wet knees of Bela’s slacks.  “Bela?”

“I ran into a little trouble,” she says after a moment, pointing vaguely at her head.  Jo’s eyes flick up to her hair line and she sees a thin line of red.  The blood is somewhat diluted from rainwater, but it’s there and looks like it’s still trickling from a wound.

“Head wound?” she asks, trying to keep some of the concern from her voice.  Bela nods.  “And you drove here like that?  You probably have a concussion, Bela.”

“Yes, I’m sure I do,” Bela says, and that old haughtiness she is known for seeps through. 

Jo grits her teeth and pulls a first aid kit from her duffel bag.  She sets in on the table and opens it up, pulling out gauze and antibiotics before getting closer to inspect the wound.  The cut isn’t all that big, but it bled a lot, matting Bela’s hair.  It needs to be stitched up.

“You’re angry,” Bela says as she watches Jo.  Jo can only think that Bela’s a lot more lucid than most people with concussion, and why does that not surprise her. 

Jo pauses in setting up her suture kit and sees that Bela’s face fall a little, a vulnerability that Jo’s never seen before slipping through.  Jo doesn’t know how to respond to it, so she pours a healthy shot of whiskey into a glass and hands it to Bela.  “Yes,” she replies before turning back to the medical supplies.

Bela downs it with a grimace and sets it back on the table.  She grabs the bottle and pours herself another shot.  “Why?” she asks, and Jo can almost see Bela slip back into herself. 

Bela’s voice isn’t angry or confused or condescending, but simply curious.  It’s the first time Jo’s ever been with anyone that’s accepted her anger, didn’t try to make her feel wrong for how she felt.  Her gaze remains heavy on her and Jo has to fight from glancing at her.  Her hands shake as she sets up the supplies.

“Oh,” Bela says, and it always sounds like crackling glass.  She downs the second whiskey shot and puts it down on the table.  “You were worried about me.”

Jo doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to.  She wants Bela to keep talking in that soft, foreign voice of hers if only to keep Jo from scream everything she wants to at her.  But Bela doesn’t.  She just stays quiet, looking too thoughtful and not at all conniving like people say she is.  There’s always been a lot more to Bela than people think, more than Jo even knows.  She knows it’s there, the manipulative streak, but she’s never felt it directed at her, even when it would so incredibly easy because Bela’s had an easier time of reading Jo than anyone else she’s ever met. She hopes that means something about Bela, about them together.

The seconds tick by and the silence gets to Jo.  She can feel it rising in her, boiling up hot and angry.  “Of course I was worried,” she shouts out finally, almost wishing Bela flinched from it as awful as it sounds. 

Jo turns to face Bela and she can feel herself shaking so badly.  “You said you’d be here at seven, so I waited and waited and called you and you didn’t get back to me at all.  So of course I was worried when my fucking girlfr-”  Jo stops with a choked gasp when she realizes what she almost says.  They haven’t gone there yet, haven’t defined just what they are and she’s been too scared to be the one to initiate it, scared of driving Bela away from her for good.

“It’s been a long time since someone has worried about me,” Bela says.  She reaches out and takes Jo’s hands into her own and steadies them.  “I think,” she says, and now she’s the one that looks flustered, her cheeks red.  “I think I like it.  I think I like that you’re the one that worries about me.”  Bela looks back at her and now Jo knows what people say about Bela’s consuming determination.  Directed full-force at Jo, it’s overwhelming.  She feels her knees wobble and she drops to them.

Bela leans forward and wraps her arms around Jo.  “I’m sorry,” she murmurs into Jo’s blonde hair.  “The acquisition went wrong and my phone was damaged.  I couldn’t remember your number.  I’m really sorry, Joanna.”

“Okay,” Jo replies, tightening her arms.  Bela slips out of the chair and kneels in front of her.

“I’ll try harder not to make my girlfriend worry about me in the future,” Bela says, and Jo lets out a strangled sort of laugh. 

Jo feels her pulse thrum faster and she pulls back to look at her, but Bela surges forward and kisses her hard like that first kiss months before.  Jo can feel this one all the way down to her toes too.

When Bela’s hands reach for the sash of Jo’s robes, Jo grabs her hands and pulls back.  “I have to at least stitch up your head first,” she says.

Bela frowns and grumbles out an, “You’re such a tease, Harvelle.”

Jo smirks at her, and they stand, Bela getting back in the chair.  “We’ll see who is teasing whom when I’m done.”

Bela gives her a wry smile.  “Now _that_ I like the sound of.”

 

 


End file.
